


Not Something We Invented

by imhcin



Category: The 100 (TV), The 100 Series - Kass Morgan
Genre: Eventual Relationships, F/F, Fluff and Smut, Lesbian Character, Lesbian Sex, Multi, Other, POV Lesbian Character, Smut
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-04-12
Updated: 2016-04-12
Packaged: 2018-06-01 20:18:59
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,467
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6534958
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/imhcin/pseuds/imhcin
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>I'm new to writing, so please leave feedback!</p>
<p>This is an AU, where Clarke and Lexa are high school students who meet in photography class. Told in Lexa's point-of-view, they are two very different people who quickly connect. This is a typical girl-meets-girl story with lots of love and passion, so if that's what you're looking for, keep reading.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Not Something We Invented

**Author's Note:**

> I will try to write as much as I can, expect a lot more work from me near the end of April (after finals)!
> 
> Thanks for reading :)

Today is the first day of grade twelve. I feel like I should be happy that it’s my last year, but part of me just wishes I had already graduated. I didn’t get enough sleep this morning. I’m working hard to try and keep my eyes open while Mr. Hanson spouts out information about different types of business ownership. First period is over – finally. I quickly get up and I am the first one to leave the classroom. The first day of each course just consists of the teacher reading through the tedious outline while all of us sit in the heat and hope that they don’t decide to start actually teaching. I wasn’t so lucky in first period. Now I’m headed to grade eleven photography. I only took this course to fill a gap in my schedule, and it hasn’t even started yet but I’m already dreading it. I could have taken a spare, but I figured this would be an easy way to increase my average. Also it may look good when applying to universities that I’m more “well-rounded.” _Sigh_. What a bunch of bullshit. All you have to do is play the system and we all end up getting what we want. I take a turn and head down an overly populated hallway, scattered with girls in crop tops and boys with eager eyes. A tall boy with dark shaggy hair takes notice as I walk by.

“Hey Lexa! How was your summer?” Bellamy asks while standing in the hall with his friends.

“Good thanks,” I say with a forced smile and continue walking. I don’t know why he feels the need to always acknowledge me. All I did was tutor him in functions last year. People consider him the _king_ of high school. Not that I care about that kind of thing. I’m not a “somebody.” However, I’m not a “nobody.” I’m just more of a loner, but I really don’t mind. People like me, I just usually don’t like them.

“OK class, everyone get settled and I’ll be back before you know it!” chimes the photography teacher as she passes me in the doorway. Class hasn’t officially started yet. I grab a seat in the back by the window. This is a grade eleven class, so I don’t expect to know anyone. As I’m grabbing my notebook from my bag, I hear footsteps approach from behind.

“You know, that’s usually my seat. But I guess I can manage for one day,” she says as she sits in the chair beside me. I turn around and the first thing I notice is her hair. She has messy wavy blonde hair. As I catch her gaze, I notice she has blue eyes. Not blue like the ocean, but more of a grey-blue. Like the sky with a thin layer of clouds. She’s also very pretty – naturally pretty – which I also couldn’t help but notice. As I’m processing her appearance, she winks at me and smiles. I hope I wasn’t silently staring for too long.

“Oh sorry, I had no idea that we still had assigned seats – and that we are in the fourth grade,” I shoot back.

She laughs. “I’m Clarke, by the way. You’re not in grade eleven, are you? I’ve never had a class with you.”

“Lexa,” I say with a half-smile. “And no, I’m in grade twelve. I take mostly business courses, so this is just a random elective for me.”

“Oh then we _definitely_ haven’t met!” Clarke chimes.

I smile back while I try to think of something clever to say, but the teacher runs in before I open my mouth.

“Alright class!” She says while catching her breath. “My name is Mrs. Nilsson, and this is a photography class, as I’m sure you’re well aware. So guess what? We are gonna start with some photography – that is, after I quickly go through this course outline. You’ll be partnering with the person beside you. Get friendly – they will be your partner throughout the course, _including_ the final assignment. Today, you will split up and get familiar with your cameras. By the end of the class, you will each have taken a photo of your partner that you think best represents them.”

Nilsson switches focus to the course outline and I immediately lose interest. I look over at Clarke, and she is doodling in her notebook. Her hair is tucked behind her ear, and she is concentrating rather hard on what she is doing. I look around the room, I don’t recognize anyone else. Other than maybe passing them briefly in the hallway, but that’s about it. Clarke is really nice. Not that we’ve spoken much, but she seems sweet. She also seems very independent and confident. Every time I look over at her I can’t help but notice how pretty she is. Not pretty like the popular girls at school, but pretty like the way a sunset looks over an ocean. It sounds cliché, but I don’t know how else to describe it. There is just so much more to her than a symmetrical face and blonde hair. As Nilsson continues to discuss the grading scheme, Clarke looks at me. I quickly look away and pretend I haven’t been staring at her for the past ten minutes. I meet her gaze again, and she rolls her eyes back, giving me a dramatic bored look. Even when she does that she looks pretty. She un-scrunches her face and smiles at me. _Butterflies_. Is this a girl crush? Am I so jealous of her I want to be her? Maybe I’m just happy that she acknowledged me, as most people just go along with their business and their friends.

I completely zone out while thinking about her, and soon enough I hear Nilsson say, “OK, you’re free to go! Be back in 45 minutes with your pictures.” Everyone gets up quickly and begins to leave.

“Alright Lexa, you ready to try to capture my true _soul_?” Clarke says sarcastically while getting up from the desk.

“Uhh, yeah I’ll definitely try,” I stammer, while stuffing my notebook into my bag. 

We both leave the classroom, and I ask, “Alright, where to?”

“I know a place,” Clarke says with no hesitation. She takes the lead, flipping her blonde hair over her shoulders, and I follow her.

We approach an area in the school that I’m not familiar with. “I’ve never been down this hallway, where are we going again?”

“Oh calm down! We’re almost there.” Clarke says with a big smile. I could look at her smile all day.

“OK, whatever you say,” I respond, smiling back. After a few more turns down unfamiliar hallways, we reach a stop.

“You’ve never been in this area because these are where all the upper-class art rooms are.” Clarke says matter-of-factly.

“Yeah, I guess you’re right,” I say back, raising my eyebrows.

She points to a huge mural on the wall, “Do you like it?”

“Yeah it’s beautiful.” I say truthfully, looking up at the abundance of colours in awe.

“I painted it,” Clarke says with confidence. “All by myself. I won a contest last year in grade 10. They usually award it to seniors, but apparently I proved myself.”

“Wow, you’re really talented,” I say, looking over at her just in time to see her look down and smile in reaction to what I said.

“Anyway,” she says quickly. “This is me. Let’s do you now.”

I don’t have anything nearly as impressive to show her. I need to stall while I think of something. “That’s it?” I say. “You said I was going to have to capture your soul, all I know now is that you won a contest to paint a mural. How about you tell me something no one else knows. You know, so I can get to know your _soul_ better,” I say with a smirk.

“Well, well. Something nobody else knows, eh? How do I know I can trust you?” Clarke says, narrowing her eyes.

“Because,” I respond, “you just know.” She doesn’t have any reason to trust me, but I can’t supress this feeling of wanting to know more about her. I want to know everything about her.

“Alright that’s legitimate enough,” she says sarcastically. “I guess I have to comply now that you’ve given me all the reason in the world to trust you.”

I look up at her and smile. “Sounds good to me.”

“Well,” she says as she sits down beside me. Her leg brushes against mine, and lingers there. She didn’t move it, and I wasn’t about to move mine. “When I was younger, I decided I wanted to be an artist because I lost my dad. He got sick. I don’t really remember much of it now, but I do remember that he was always smiling. He used to take time off work just to spend days with me. He was an amazing artist, but he didn’t pursue it because his parents – my grandparents – weren’t supportive. Luckily, I must’ve inherited some sort of artistic talent from him, and now I’m gonna pursue it, because of him and because I love it.”

She looks up at me, and for the first time since I met her an hour ago, she isn’t smiling or smirking. She is neutral, waiting for my reaction. “Well, that’s definitely a good reason. I’m sorry you had to go through that,” I say with as much emotion as I can gather.

“Yeah well, it got me to where I am today,” she says confidently, looking up at her mural.

“Go stand with your mural,” I say to her, grabbing the camera. “Right now, this is what I think represents you. Maybe that will change with time.”

She stands up and walks over to her mural with a sway in her hips. I catch my eyes lingering and I swiftly avert them before she notices. She turns around, stands with her feet spread apart, and puts her thumbs in her jean pockets. Her blonde hair falls in front of her face, and she looks up and says, “Take my picture.”

_Click_. I am no artist, but I think I can use a camera pretty well. In the photo she’s not smiling, but she looks fierce. She emits confidence. Not in the annoying, cocky kind-of-way, but in a way that makes you instantly respect her.

“Let me see it!” she says running over to me. She stands behind me, placing her hands on my shoulders as she leans in. _Butterflies_. I feel her long hair drape over me as I bring up the picture on the camera.

“Looks good – for an amateur, that is,” she says while nudging me. “Now for your picture, what did you have in mind?”

“Uh, follow me,” I say. I don’t have anywhere to take her, so I just start walking. We end up in the main hall, a fair distance away from her mural. I slow down, and as she walks in front of me, I couldn’t help but analyze her with each and every step, my eyes fixed somewhere they shouldn’t be. She turns around and I look up at her quickly.

“Alright,” she says. “Is this where we are stopping?”

“I guess,” I respond while leaning against the wall and sliding down. “I didn’t really have anywhere in mind. I was kind of hoping I would think of something on this long walk.”

She laughs and heads over to sit with me. “How about _you_ tell _me_ something now.”

“Alright, let me think,” I say to her with a smile. While thinking about what to tell her, only one thing comes to mind. I try to push it out and think about anything else. After a few minutes of me arguing with myself about what to say, I spit it out. “About a year ago, my uh, good friend passed away.”

_About a year ago_? More like March 16th, 2015 at approximately 9:30 P.M. _Good friend_? I lied. She was much more than that. She was everything. People expected me to be upset about it, you know, since she was my “best friend.” But what no one knows is that my heart broke that day, and it’s been breaking ever since.

Clarke looks shocked. “Oh god Lexa, that’s awful. What happened?”

I swallow. I’ve never really talked about this with anyone, but for some reason I feel strangely comfortable with her. “Yeah, it’s OK. She killed herself,” I say quickly. “It sucked, but I’m OK, really.”

I’m not OK.

“Wait, did she go to this school?” Clarke asks, while placing her hand on my leg.

“Yeah, I guess you heard about it then. Her name was Costia.” I respond, my body stiffening as I say her name.

“That’s awful. I’m so sorry Lexa.” Clarke says as she grasps my leg. She’s giving me a look of pity now, but it’s different than the look everyone else gives me. I wonder if she knows. Rumors about us circulated at one point, but Costia shut them down fast.

She looks very sincere. I can tell she wants me to keep talking, but if I keep going I might cry, and I don’t want to be that vulnerable in front of her. I swallow, force a smile and say, “Yeah. Anyways, what do you want to do for my picture?”

“Well, I’ve got a good idea. Stand up and come this way,” she responds while guiding me with her hand on my back. The butterflies are back. She gets me to stand in the middle of this wall plastered with student’s handprints. I don’t know how to stand or what to do. I just look up with a neutral expression.

_Click_. “Looks great,” she says with a smile.

“So,” I start, “what was the reasoning behind this photo?”

“Well,” she says and looks over at me. “Correct me if I’m wrong, but I feel like you think you’re all alone in this world, but you’re not. The handprints represent that,” she says playfully. Her tone changes significantly and she adds, “You don’t have to be alone, you know.” She grabs my hand and squeezes it. Instant goosebumps crawl up my arm, sending a shiver down my spine. I can’t figure out if this is a friendly hand-hold or not, but either way I don’t want her to let go.

After a few seconds of silence, I speak up. “Wow, that’s definitely an artist’s perspective. However, I don’t know whether or not I should be offended because you think I’m some lonely puppy dog,” I say with a half-smile.

She laughs. She has a really nice laugh. “Don’t be offended. You’re not alone anyway now. You’ve got me.”

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you.
> 
> I will post more as soon as possible.
> 
> Feel free to visit me! http://toohumanforthis.tumblr.com


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